This and That

Fictional Characters vs. Real People

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Fictional Characters: Whenever I begin a new book I usually have the character’s traits all mapped out, however as the story progresses it doesn’t always work out that someone gets to stay a certain way.  Sometimes the characters take over and tell me what to do or what they want.  Heck it is their world after all, if I could be a blonde I would be and if it makes the story better, why not?

What I love about fiction is just that; it’s fiction.  I can slip into a world where everything is better, I can pretend that I am a blonde and nothing else matters for just a little while.  How fantastic is that?
Reading introduces us to a world or worlds where anything is possible.  You can fly off to other places and times, be anything you want to be and do anything you want to do and yet be home by supper time.  It opens an entire world right before your eyes.
I always imagined myself stepping right into the pages as I opened a book.  I could literally envision I was right there, sharing the experience along with the characters until it was either time to put the book down for the night or until someone came along and snatched me out of my reading zone.
I do hope we can journey on this path together as author and reader.  As always reading should be a fantastic journey and enjoyed to its fullest pleasure.

I think what I detest the most when it comes to fictional characters is when a real person gets attached to them.  Not that I mind the hunky eye candy that usually comes with it, but some people don’t quite get the concept behind what being obsessed with a fictional character is vs. being obsessed with a real person is.  Let’s see if I can clarify this for you.

I adore Legolas from Lord of the Rings.  I have him as my screensaver, my desktop photo and even in my car since my car now allows an icon on the console.  So you could say I have a deep obsession with the tall, blonde, arrow-wielding elf.  Just a small one.

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Others walk by my computer at work and ask if I’m in love with Orlando Bloome.  Um, not so much.  If I was, you would see pictures of Orlando, the man himself.  I would also have photos of him from the Pirate movie, Orlando not in character, Orlando, Orlando, Orlando. Not Legolas in every way shape and form.  I love the Tolkien story and the elf he created.  I love the banter between Gimli and Legolas.  If this was one story I could step into and actually stay in, I would so be a stalker of this particular elf. Sorry Legolas, but your daddy would probably have me banned or jailed or something I would guess.

The tall, leggy elf is not my only obsession.  I’m also a Twimom.  What can I say I read the books with my daughters and anything to inspire reading, I’m all for it.  Besides when it comes with men being shirtless most of the time, even better.  So this was another instance where, even to my daughters, I had to explain the difference between having an obsession with a character and an obsession with boys who were jailbait.

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I had to explain to my girls that these boys, that brought back memories of when I was a young girl, were so devoted to Bella and the fact that they would never leave her side to the point of death, especially Jacob, even when she was in love with someone else.  That he would always be there for her and loved her unrequitedly.  Damn, how could you not fall for this guy?  Again, would so stalk this guy in literary land.

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Now on to a man that wouldn’t land me in jail, Spartacus. Sigh.  This male specimen not only represents delicious eye candy every episode, but is the story of how one man proves he can make a difference.  Is Liam a delicious man to look at, don’t get me wrong, he is, but the story of Spartacus itself is one of inspiration.  How did one man lead an army against the entire Roman empire?  What is it that drove this man to stand up and say, “No more.”  Now that is a story I want to sink my teeth into.  Not to mention perhaps his pectorals 🙂

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So I hope this gives you some insight into what makes up a fictional character vs. who plays them and perhaps will help if you someday read one of my literary works. And maybe, just maybe it might help when you see someone have an obsession with a character and you begin to question their sanity.

This and That

Introvert heading into the lion’s den

With RT right around the corner my excitement and panic level are growing daily. It’s like knowing I’m willingly walking into the lion’s den with all the blind faith of Daniel that the lions won’t eat me, yet I’m still scared out of my mind because let’s face it, these are frickin’ lions.

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I work myself up to the point of sheer inner panic that I would rather spend time meeting my favorite rock star alone, making a total ass of myself; because knowing me I would open my mouth and insert foot, calf, thigh, all the way up to my ass. I would still brave doing that vs. going to the one place where I will no doubt do the very same thing in front of the peer group that I look up to, respect, and hope to one day work among. So yes, I would rather spend time willingly degrading myself in front of my favorite rock star. At least I would get some fantastic ogling time and beautiful eye candy dreams from the experience and I could totally block out the stupidity of myself from the humiliation of it all for the few brief minutes in heaven right?

Gah! It is no wonder I spend more time with fictional characters, real people terrify me 🙂

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As an introvert, living life in general is hard, because guess what-you are constantly surrounded by-PEOPLE! Introverts are highly misunderstood, often times seen as snobby or too good to join in, or those are some of the rumors I hear. When we do make an effort to attend a function, the fear of actually being there is highly overwhelming so staying towards the back of the room seems like the best option. A great place to not get eaten up by the crowd. Although, it once again looks like you are not a participator, perhaps too good to want to join in, or there to judge the rest of the group.
Now, trust me on this. The only thing running through my mind, aside from the sheer panic that someone will ask me to remember their name, because that is my Achilles heel, is that I will be asked to participate in something that will put me center stage. I abhor being in the center of attention, being pointed out, you name it.

Now get this; Karma, fate, whatever you want to call it, obviously hates me because I was made to stand out and I mean that literally. I have red hair and I mean bright orange, not dark red where it could be brown or even blonde with red mixed in, no it is bright orange! I am the female Carrot Top, Shawn White, etc… Can’t tell you how many times I hear, “Found you, just saw your hair.” A mile a way through a sea of a thousand people.
Then to top it off I have an annoying laugh, not a petite feminine laugh, oh no, the good Lord graced me with a loud, obnoxious, boisterous, at times snorting laugh. If you couldn’t find me through the sea of a thousand people by my hair alone, just get me to laugh and you’ll find me soon enough. No GPS needed to find me. I am my own beacon.
Do I have issues? Yeah, you could say I have issues, which is probably why I tend to shy away towards the back of the crowd. Do I try to combat those issues? Yeah, I do try. I’ve tried my entire life to do things that terrify me. Will probably die at an early age from the sheer terror I constantly subject myself to. 🙂
Tombstone: Died from living

I do sympathize with the troll in the Billy Goat Gruff story though. Here was a troll, happily living under his bridge; alone, peaceful, with not a care in the world. Then one day Billy comes along and tramps all over his bridge disturbing his blissful peace. I would get a little steamed and feel like eatin’ me some goat too. I mean really, Billy probably disturbed the troll from reading a really nice romance about two trolls running off into the sunset together or something along those lines. That would piss me off too. Yet once again, in this particular story, Billy’s name gets top credit, the story is all about Billy, Billy, Billy. We don’t even know the troll’s name. The introvert’s never get any credit, we are only seen as evil and wicked, a non-participator. *Sigh.*

The funny thing is if you were to give me a script, something rehearsed, something I know by heart and put me in front of a crowd I would be fine. I worked in HR for years where I not only had to lead meetings in front of hundreds of employees, but I had to know what I was talking about, be prepared for those random questions that someone from the back of the room, its always that person from the back of the room-grrrrr, would ask and try to trip you up. I always went in prepared, researching every angle, looking up every possible answer before someone could even think it. Ok so besides names, my other nemeses is being asked a question I don’t know the answer to when I really should.
Ever taken a test that you’ve studied for and you look at the question and your mind suddenly went *poof*. Yeah, I hate that feeling too. It’s there right on the tip of your brain, you can almost touch it, but it is off hiding with all the names I should remember. They are off having a party and they didn’t invite me-bastards!
If you haven’t noticed I have something of a type A complex. A bit controlling, a tad obsessive when it comes to my own work habits, yet I do accept and admit my own flaws-I curse you flaws!
So mix the type A personality with the huge insecurity of being unable to reach out to others and what do people see-a recluse, snobby, perfectionist.

But those who know me, the real me, know my house is anything but organized-ok drives me nuts, but that has more to do with my kids than me, but I stopped fighting that battle long ago. I decided life was more fun living than cleaning. I’m a very open honest and loving person. Actually its kinda hard to get rid of me, just ask the school friends I grew up with. I’m like a barnacle, just try to scrape me off-whahahahaha. That sounded miniacle didn’t it? Did I happen to mention I’m a tad evil too, or maybe wicked is a better word. You could ask any of my girlfriends about my wicked side, my family knows all about my wicked side too. I think they actually like my sick/twisted side. It makes their mother cool.

Just don’t send me into new territory, into a huge social function without someone to cling to.
What?
Going to RT by myself you say?
Shoving me into a huge social situation with thousands of people you say? *Gulp* By myself?
Ok, I can do this. Where’s my big girl panties made of armor?

So if you see me, be kind to the introvert and know even if you tell me your name I may forget it because names and me do not get along. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s only because I’m probably pushing down the fight or flee impulses running through my system and your name didn’t take precedence over wanting to survive.

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